Cousins 1
by BlueJuvenal
Summary: A witch and her Muggle kinsman team up to dispense justice.  All characters are original.


**Thursday, August 18****th****, 7:03 PM**

"I would like some popcorn."

The girl behind the concession counter blinked. Before her stood a man with greased-back, black hair, a doughy face peppered with whiskers, and a burgundy suit with dark, pin-width stripes. A couple of movie patrons behind him were ogling at the cut of his jacket. The girl working the concession counter shifted her weight to her left foot.

"Sure, what size?"

The man bounced on the balls of his feet. "As much as you can give me."

The girl dropped her jaw slightly and retrieved from underneath the counter a paper bucket, which she then filled to the top with salty, yellow popcorn. The man took the bucket, gave the girl a fifty-dollar bill, and left without waiting for change. He entered the theater farthest down the hall on the left.

In accordance with the man's tastes, the picture showing this evening was violent. Crimes were committed by large, muscular men armed with shadowy guns. Police detectives paced in their grimy offices and swore. An attractive woman spoke few sentences but lustily displayed her legs. The man sat towards the back and began to eat his popcorn. As he was nearing the bottom of the bucket, an actor on the screen fired at absurd length an automatic rifle. The surrounding walls of the theater chattered with the noise, and the man grinned. When the gun ceased firing, the man rose from his seat, walked into a blackened nook at the corner of the theater, turned on his heel, and disappeared with a faint pop.

**8:40 PM**

"So what do you want for your birthday?" James asked the question without any trace of emotion, not an expectant smile blooming on his mouth, not an impatient shuffle of his arms. He might have been conducting a job interview. Jaime laughed and shook her head slyly.

"I don't know! Surprise me, James, like you always do." Jaime looked down and watched the candlelight dance in the large, awkward, garnet-studded ring that James wore on his right hand. She once asked James about it, but only received the answer that it was a family heirloom. That was her first surprise from him.

Jaime had been dating James for a year already, and even after that time he seemed a bit of a mystery to her. He worked for the FBI, but wouldn't talk about his job, not even about old cases that had no bearing anymore. He would on occasion tell hilarious jokes, but never seemed to think them funny himself. Not once did he ever display signs of male insecurity over the fact that the two of them shared nearly identical names. James was mysterious without a doubt, and Jaime was honest enough with herself to admit that his mystery was part of what made him so attractive.

Their waiter arrived with the check, which James deftly swiped off the table before Jaime could even look at it. Jaime sighed and took another sip of her wine.

"I'm so happy you have the weekend free. Maybe we can go into the city?"

The fan overhead teased the few loose brown hairs on the top of Jaime's head. She looked at James' thick nose and his smoothly planed jaw, and had the funny notion that he was a farmer just come in from the fields after a bitter day's work. James narrowed his blue eyes and observed his girlfriend. The candlelight jumped off the surface of the garnet.

"We can go wherever you want."

**Friday, August 19****th****, 7:49 AM**

Morgan sat at the head of a long table in a bland, white room. Her emerald robes occasionally got caught underneath the leg of her chair as she would fidget and lean back from moment to moment. She craned her neck and listened to the door click open. A gangly bald man wearing a white shirt and blue tie entered followed by another man. The bald man had been speaking as they crossed the threshold of the room.

". . .something of a surprise. Ah, here we go. James, may I introduce Morgan Westerling. Ms. Westerling, this is James McBride, as you requested." James looked at his boss incredulously. At the opposite end of the conference room a woman with a thin, pretty face and waist-length red hair stood up. She was draped in what appeared to be a billowing green dress. Above her left eye was a small, glittery tattoo of a crescent moon. James noticed also that a garnet-studded ring, the same as the one he wore, was fixed on her right hand. Without taking his eyes off the woman, James sat down in the seat closest to the door.

"I'll leave you two alone." James' boss left without any further elucidation.

Morgan strode casually towards James and took a seat close to his knees. She noticed that despite his calm demeanor, sweat had imperceptibly formed on his forehead. Morgan took a deep breath and proceeded with her assignment.

"Hello, James. You may call me Morgan if you wish."

James curled his mouth slightly and crossed his legs. "Okay."

"Your superior, Director Tisdale, has been generous enough to allow me access to this office. If you must know, I had to slightly alter his emotional state when I requested this meeting, but after I explained everything, no further enchantment was necessary."

James continued to look at Morgan with an air of amusement.

"You appear quite settled, James, and perhaps you will continue to be so if I launch right into the facts. I am a witch, as perhaps you have deduced. I am not alone. Magical beings and creatures currently exist in the world as part of a secret society. Our goals are generally the same as non-magical peoples, to prosper, reproduce, and be happy."

Morgan paused. James continued to stare.

"Unfortunately, just as with non-magical peoples, we have our trouble-makers. One of these trouble-makers has led me here." Morgan pulled from her robes a squat, black wand and pointed it over her left shoulder. She noticed that James was twiddling his thumbs.

"Are you calm?" Morgan asked James the question as if she were about to show him a frightful photo. James cleared his throat and made a funny gesture with his neck.

"Of course."

Morgan flicked her wand. Above her left shoulder appeared a revolving, transparent bust of a man. He had combed-back, greasy black hair and a doughy face. James gave a sharp laugh and looked underneath Morgan's chair.

"How are you doing that?"

"I am performing magic, James, as witches sometimes do."

James darted his head around, perhaps in search of an external power source, Morgan guessed. After several wasted minutes of searching, he sat still and returned to gazing at Morgan. She gazed steadily back.

"His name is Oscar Wedge. He is known in criminal circles as 'The Edge.' He, along with several associates, has illegally rustled thirty-two unicorns and created a ranch for them right here in Essex County. Apparently his goal is to harvest various magical components from the animals and sell them for a profit on the black market. Are you well?"

James lazily answered he was quite well. Morgan gave another flick of her wand. The transparent, revolving bust of Oscar Wedge was replaced by another. James observed the shoulder-length hair, the hairy upper lip, and the weak chin. Morgan raised her voice slightly as the air conditioner turned on.

"His name is Joseph Fogerty, a follower, somewhat of a devout one if I may add, of Mr. Wedge. He is running a methamphetamines lab on the same compound Wedge is keeping the unicorns. They are in business together, although Fogerty is what witches and wizards call a Muggle, which is a non-magical person."

James raised his eyebrows and sat up more straight in his chair. The air conditioner droned monotonously. Morgan took a deep breath. She admired the quiet way James collected information, regardless of how preposterous it might have sounded.

"Like yourself, James, I am an enforcer of the law, in this case magical law. It is my job to apprehend witches and wizards who practice dark magic, wizards like Mr. Wedge. I am what is known as an Auror. I intend to catch The Edge, arrest his henchmen, and set free the captive unicorns. Unfortunately, Wedge's partnership with Fogerty complicates matters. Fogerty's crimes fall under Muggle jurisdiction. It was therefore deemed prudent to consult and offer cooperation with the Muggle investigative authorities."

James stood up.

"You are upset, James."

James cracked his knuckles.

"A little." James attempted to keep his arms by his sides. "Assuming that I believe what you're saying for the smallest possible instant, why would you come to me with this?"

Morgan lowered her wand. The floating image of Joseph Fogerty evaporated.

"Your assistance in this operation is critical. Once I have taken into custody Wedge and his fellow magic-users, you will do the same with Fogerty."

James' mouth was slightly agape.

"Again, why me?"

Morgan smiled, pocketed her wand, and rose her right hand. The garnet on her ring sparkled in the fluorescent light from above.

"James, you might not buy into the notion of magic, but you are influenced by it more than you think. The rings we share have magical properties. While we wear them, we are impervious to mental or psychic attack." Morgan lowered her hand. "Even a Muggle like yourself enjoys their benefits."

James sat down again and shook his head. Morgan pressed on.

"Your director has been incredibly reasonable in this matter. Your profile suggests you adapt to abnormal circumstances easier than your colleagues. Therefore, we both agreed you would be the best Muggle liaison for this operation. Your ring gives you a degree of magical protection not normally afforded, even to wizards. As a witch, I can grant you further protection once we are in the field."

James stared hard at Morgan. His eyes were slightly bloodshot. He again shook his head.

"This is unbelievable."

"I know it is a lot to take in, but acceptance of the truth must dawn on you, and quickly, if we are to succeed in our mission. If Wedge thwarts us, he will undoubtedly target our family for retribution."

James' eyes widened and his features hardened.

"_Our_ family?"

Morgan sighed. The air conditioner rattled and turned off.

"I'll soon explain everything."

**10:18 AM**

After the briefing in the morning, James and Morgan reviewed the logistics of their operation. James, even as he listened intently to Morgan's descriptions of the compound's layout and perpetrators, could not bring himself to take Morgan completely seriously. James was used to hard, plain men and women in dark suits discuss op assignments with the field agents. Morgan, with her large, green robes, her sparkly tattoo, and even her clear diction, seemed slightly ridiculous to James.

"The ranch is located on a hill at the corner of an isolated wood," Morgan explained. She pointed her wand at a pull-down projection tarp. On the screen appeared schematics with moving, appearing, and disappearing arrows and words. "The meth lab is separated at a distance of sixty meters. Attached to it is a small office. We will drive to the woods and perform reconnaissance there. Our intelligence reports indicate that Wedge, besides Fogerty, has three underlings, all wizards."

"What do we know about this guy?"

"Oscar Wedge is a career criminal. He is currently wanted on charges of kidnapping, blackmail, aggravated assault with wand, aggravated assault without wand, extortion, racketeering, fraud, bribery, and counterfeiting. Dark wizards such as himself typically loathe Muggles, but Wedge, as far as we can tell, is fascinated by them. He is especially drawn toward concepts of the Muggle underworld."

James glanced over at Morgan. She kept her voice level.

"He fancies himself something of a gangster."

James watched as a fly buzzed around the lighted tip of Morgan's wand.

"Anything else?"

"He has a weakness for salty snacks."

James leaned back in his seat and put his hands behind his head.

"Tell me about Fogerty."

"Joseph Fogerty is the only Muggle active in Wedge's circle. We don't know how they met up, but Wedge seems to keep him around for business reasons. Muggle money can be exchanged for wizarding coinage, so Wedge probably receives a cut from Fogerty's drug sales. While a Muggle, Fogerty is obsessed with magic and its influence. This obsession partly explains his sincere attachment to Wedge. Intelligence reports say he has had his teeth magically sharpened by Wedge, and his pupils turned red, so he can better imagine himself to be a vampire."

James extended his lower lip and exhaled loudly. His breath tickled his nostrils.

"Great. So it's going to be just you and me against four magicians and a whack-job."

Morgan dropped her wand to her side. The illuminated schematics on the projector screen vanished.

"The Auror office regrettably cannot spare anyone else at the moment, and we considered it unwise to involve an extended number of Muggle personnel. However, we are not without our advantages. While Wedge is shrewd and dangerous, intelligence suggests his wizard associates are amateurish in combat situations. You are trained in the use of your Glock. ."

James rolled his eyes as he interrupted Morgan.

"But I can't use magic."

Morgan smiled cunningly as she stowed her wand within her robes.

"The biggest advantage Muggles have over wizards is the wizarding belief that all Muggles are inferior. It is true you are not magically gifted, but in a firefight you are quicker than virtually every witch or wizard."

James did not respond to this statement. Morgan widened her smile.

"Before casting spells, even nonverbal ones, witches and wizards, aside from the most skilled ones, will telegraph their attacks with rearing movements of their wand arms and wrists. The only movement required of you, armed as you are, is to flex your trigger finger."

"I didn't realize this was going to be a kill mission."

"We will not kill unless absolutely necessary. While you can expertly wield your firearm, I can expertly enchant it. I will magically alter your weapon so that it only stuns and incapacitates with its rounds."

James waited and after a few seconds stood up and straightened his shirt.

"Is that all?"

Morgan stood as well. The smile was gone from her face.

"James, I want you to understand me clearly in this; what we will try to accomplish tonight is extremely difficult. You are indeed well disciplined in combat and anti-terrorism, but you will very soon witness attacks that you have not encountered before. I must insist that while on this operation you yield to my judgment and command at all times."

James glared at Morgan and found satisfaction just then that he had a good three-inch height advantage over her. Morgan furrowed her amber brows.

"Understood, McBride?"

The wrinkles around James' eyes smoothed themselves out.

"Yes, ma'am."

**7:54 PM**

After James and Morgan finished their meetings at the office, they headed out in Morgan's fifteen year-old Buick. The engine failed to start the first three times Morgan turned the key in the ignition, and even after it did begin humming, rancid plumes of smoke would escape from the back every couple of minutes. James braced himself hard against the car door as Morgan swerved wildly to avoid a pot hole.

"Please forgive my driving. It is not an activity I routinely engage in." Morgan looked furtively over at James. He was staring straight ahead.

"Whatever. So where did you get this car anyway?"

"This vehicle belonged to my grandfather."

"Your grandfather. .what, he didn't have a broom to fly around on?"

Morgan did not register James' sarcasm but instead took his question seriously.

"Pop Pop was a Muggle. He and his wife bore fraternal twins, a boy and a girl."

James' stomach became cold.

"I only found out recently that my mother is a fraternal twin."

Morgan nodded while keeping her eyes severely focused on the street in front of her.

"The boy was born a wizard, and the girl was born a Muggle. Upon growing up, the boy married a witch; I am their only child. The girl, sadly, despised her brother for his unusualness, and cut off all contact with him." Morgan missed seeing a large crack in the road and drove directly over it. The inside of the car shook with a loud clatter. "Before all relations were severed, however, my father managed to persuade his sister to accept a magical token of his affection for her. He fashioned an identical token for himself, and believed the two would serve as reminders of filial love. When I came of age, he gave his ring to me, and as I observed when we met this morning, your mother did likewise with you."

James became very pale as he looked down at his garnet ring. His cousin stopped abruptly in front of a yellow traffic light and hazarded a glance at him. She noticed that he appeared to be wincing.

"James, are you okay?"

James shook his head. He shifted a little in his seat to keep his seat belt from chaffing his shoulder. "Tomorrow's my girlfriend's birthday, and I forgot to get her something."

Morgan stared at her cousin and noticed how serious his mouth looked. She began to laugh. James after a minute, laughed as well. The light turned green, and Morgan pressed down firmly on the gas pedal. The Buick jumped forward and James' FBI personnel cap fell off his head. He stole a glance at Morgan as he picked it up.

"So are you married?"

Morgan took her eyes off the road for a quick second and paused before answering. "Yes, and we have a beautiful daughter."

James nodded. "Maybe, after we get done tonight, we can arrange to all meet up."

Something swam beneath the surface of Morgan's eyes. The sun dipped sluggishly behind her, and she saw the first fluttering of stars through the windshield. "That would be nice."

**8:33 PM – The Assault on Unicorn Ranch**

Morgan pulled into the parking lot of an abandoned fast-food restaurant. The sky was dimming rapidly. She turned the engine off and listened to the sound of thousands upon thousands of crickets chirping their greetings to her. She opened the car door, got out, and stretched her arms, legs, and wrists. James exited from the opposite side and inspected his Glock. Through the fading light Morgan was still able to make out the letters 'F' 'B' 'I' across his back. James walked across to her while stepping loudly on a plastic soda cup.

"I have eight rounds, plus another clip. You think that will be enough?"

Morgan took a large breath of sticky air. She tied her long hair onto the top of her head. "Let's hope so."

James made a comic gesture of concession and glanced towards a wooded slope just past the parking lot.

"This is where we start?"

"Yes. Give me your sidearm." James handed his cousin his Glock. Morgan drew forth her wand and touched its tip directly to the butt of the gun. She closed her eyes and began muttering under her breath. The wand tip glowed red, and within seconds the pistol did as well. After a minute, Morgan removed her wand and ceased her incantation. The light shrank from the Glock. "Your weapon is primed."

"Thank you." James began to walk toward the woods. Morgan pulled from her robes a slim glass tube that contained an orange liquid.

"James."

James turned around and saw Morgan holding the glass. She extended it towards him.

"I want you to drink this. It is a potion that will ward off the sensation of shock. I know you feel confident in your ability to handle any and all situations, but I have to be able to rely on you completely."

James took the tube, looked at it for a second, popped the cork out with his thumb, and downed it in one gulp. Morgan relaxed after she witnessed this. Without warning, she twirled her wand in the air; a larger glass tube appeared directly above her wand tip. She grabbed this and examined quickly its scarlet contents. After taking two hefty swallows of it, she handed it to James. Morgan gestured at it while recovering her breath, which left her suddenly when the potion hit the bottom of her stomach.

"Please finish that as well. It is a potion to prevent exhaustion. There is enough there to last a good four hours."

James drank the remaining potion and became breathless.

"Nice."

"Indeed. Now, I must ask you to stand behind me."

James trotted briskly behind his cousin's emerald robes. Once he was out of the way, Morgan began to trace a wide circle with her wand in front of the wooded slope. Again, she muttered complex and lengthy incantations, and after two minutes the entire sightline of trees before them emitted a faint, pulsing, red aura. Morgan frowned and dropped her wand. The shadows returned to the trees.

"We have a problem. Wedge has ensnared this patch of woods with anti-intrusion magic. If we enter beneath the trees, he will be alerted. He will know also if we make ourselves invisible, excavate an underground tunnel, breach the barrier at a great height, transform ourselves into animals, whittle ourselves down into unseen specks, and naturally his wards will not allow us to simply Apparate inside. It is safe to assume all entry points into the compound have been equally fortified."

"You're kidding."

"As I stated, Wedge is both shrewd and dangerous."

James looked over his shoulder at the car. He saw that Morgan ran over an empty trash bag as she was driving, which was now wrapped around the back left tire. "So what's the plan?"

Morgan thought for a second, and then flicked her wand before her open palm; a large, bronze eye plopped down into it.

"Let's take a peep."

Morgan gently whispered to the eye, which started to glow faintly. She pointed her swarthy wand at it, and it became weightless. Finally, she swung her wand upwards and the eye shot high into the sky and out of sight. Morgan stood still with her eyes closed, and James waited. After a brief period, she extended her open palm again, and upon raising her eyelids, the bronze talisman fell into her hand. She placed the eye within her robes and motioned for James to step closer to her. When she spoke her voice was quiet.

"There is a wizard directly on the other side of these trees on patrol duty. I think he heard the car doors slam, because he is not moving away."

James looked into the forest of blackness to see if he could make anyone out. Morgan continued to speak softly.

"I couldn't see anyone else, but we have to guess they are either inside the lab or the office. I am going to tell you what we will do, so please listen carefully. We are going to storm the woods. We will keep a distance of no more than twenty meters from each other. As we are moving through the trees, you will most likely hear bells, a siren, some form of alarm. Ignore it. When we come into the clearing, I will deal with the wizard, but I want you to keep an eye on the compound on top of the hill. If you see anyone, anyone at all, emerge from the buildings, you are to open fire. You will know your target is neutralized if there is a red burst in front of his body and he collapses. Once I am finished with the guard, we will move together towards the ranch. Any questions?"

James shook his head. Morgan could tell his heart was beating feverishly. She held her wand out before her and looked dead ahead into the gloom.

"On three. . one. . .two . .three!"

Morgan dashed forward and saw out of the corner of her eye James do the same. She imagined she must look like a streaking, green wisp of fire. She felt unfettered, exhilarated, but also proud; here she was, united with her Muggle cousin, both of them risking their lives for the sake of justice. She didn't consider what her death would mean to her loved ones, and yet she was enveloped by a happiness she never previously achieved.

As they blew past the first trees, no alarm sounded. Morgan immediately became worried. After five seconds of sprinting, she noticed that the trees were shedding their shadows and becoming clear and gray. She also realized that she was slowing down, despite her best efforts to move her legs as quickly as possible. She opened her mouth to yell to her cousin, but she saw he was no longer beside her. With barely a glimmer of conscious thought, she pointed her wand directly over her heart and screamed.

"_Liberacorpus_!"

Her wand tip flashed white and she found her legs beneath her again. The woods were once more clothed in darkness. She looked behind her and saw James running in slow motion. She whipped her wand at him; there was another white flash, and James rocketed onward in a burst of speed. She took off with him.

"Keep going!"

They raced into the clearing, and Morgan looked to her right; a wizard with a purple, pin-striped cloak was pointing his wand at her. He was yelling.

"_Expelliarmus_!"

Morgan dove to the ground the instant she saw the wand. The wizard's spell soared past her high, red hair. She rolled, came up, and before she had both feet set on the soil she was flicking her wand at the wizard. His legs were knocked out from underneath him and his wand shot out of his hand. Morgan slashed her arm and the wizard's wand exploded with an enormous bang and a lingering crackle. She made a final cut with her wand, and iron chains shot forth and encased the wizard as he lay senseless on the earth. She looked to her left and saw James standing still. He had a curious look on his face.

**8:52 PM**

James saw two wizards emerge from the office wing of the compound. Both were wearing dark suits with matching cloaks. They dashed towards him. James aimed his Glock and emptied his clip, but the split second he discharged his weapon, the two wizards suddenly changed direction; they were now running away from each other. James reached into his magazine pouch and retrieved the other clip of ammunition. By the time his pistol was loaded again, the wizards were again charging in his direction, but at a great distance apart. Oddly, they had their two wands pointed at each other.

James took aim at the wizard on the left, but as he did so, a loud grating roar seemed to rip the evening in half. From the tips of the two wands emerged what James gathered to be a long, swiftly-spinning, maelstrom of blades. The dead, brown grass between the wizards was being churned up and dissected. The whirring whip of the magic metal was creating a wind that beat viciously against James' face. He figured he had only a couple seconds, so he took aim and fired. His first three rounds missed the left wizard, but the fourth found its mark. A red, illuminated ball burst before the wizard's chest, and then he crumpled to the ground. The rank of shifting swords immediately dissolved. The remaining wizard looked over at his partner and was momentarily stunned. Then, with a malicious sneer, he aimed his wand at James.

"You piece of Muggle. . "

A bright green flash emanated from his wand, but James had taken cover and the killing curse missed. James peered up from the ground and saw the wizard's attention was no longer focused on him. Morgan had entered the fray and was deflecting the wizard's curses left and right. As an orange bolt shot past her shoulder, James saw her hit the ground hard on her stomach. He feared she was defeated, but then she began to precisely and rapidly flick her wand at the wizard. To James it looked like she was conducting a savage symphony. At each flick there was a sharp crack, and the wizard began to howl in agony. He lifted one of his feet and tried to massage his toes, even as they each, one by one, were being broken. After a series of cracks the wizard toppled over. Morgan jumped to her feet, and rent the air in front of the fallen wizard. His wand burst into flames as it lay helpless on the ground, and large, iron shackles exploded into existence and bound themselves mercilessly around the wizard's arms, waist, and legs. Morgan observed James on the ground and began to walk towards him. As she neared, James could see upon her face the fading thunder of raw fury.

"Are you wounded?" Morgan asked roughly.

James shook his head and stood up.

"Nice wand work."

Morgan blinked and turned her head in the direction of the other fallen henchman. She strode over to his prone body, and pointed her wand at him with her arm arched above her head. James, as brave as he considered himself, found the posture terrifying. A clanking metallic sound issued from the wand, and a large, silvery clamp shot forth and buried itself into the ground while pressing firmly and James did not doubt painfully against the wizard's neck. Morgan looked at James.

"Pick up his wand and put it in your pocket."

James did as he was instructed. He noticed that when he picked up the long, blond stick, a certain degree of warmth caressed his fingers.

"Can I keep it?"

Morgan was scanning the ranch with her wild, brown eyes.

"For now."

James then heard a chorus of shrill whines coming from the top of the hill.

"The unicorns?"

Morgan swallowed. "They are agitated. Jesus! James! Get behind. ."

Before James could do anything, a rapid, unrelenting burst of gunfire erupted from the office wing of the compound. James dived into the dirt and looked up to see Morgan spinning her wand before her with blinding speed. The bullets were ricocheting off her shield charms and flying off into the sky. Her eyes were set in stone, staring at the form advancing from the office. Her skin was wet with sweat and fear. James instinctively pulled Morgan to the ground with him while the bullets zipped without pause over her head. He pushed his mouth against her ear and shouted.

"I don't think he has our position yet. He must have fired off at least eight hundred rounds. No gun in existence can continue at that clip without melting down. What's he. ."

"It's not a gun!" Morgan was shouting back and James saw the sheer horror planted on his cousin's face. "It's a wand!"

James thought he felt his pupils dilate. He set his jaw firmly and fired towards the office his remaining four rounds. He quickly lowered his head as the bullets continued without cessation to hiss about his brain.

"We have to get out of here! Now!"

Morgan pointed her wand upwards and instantly there was an eruption of thick, gray smoke. She sprayed the air above them for a minute, and James was relieved to observe the smoke form a solid screen, even as hundreds and hundreds of bullets punctured its shape. Without exchanging words they stumbled upwards and dashed back towards the forest. They both fell among the first row of trees and watched the smoke slowly evaporate. Before it was completely dissipated, the gunfire suddenly stopped. James, even with the ringing in his ears, was sure not a single cricket was chirping. He felt beneath his legs warm shrapnel, and saw that many of the trees had strips of bark sheared off by the fusillade. Morgan was staring ahead and trying to control her breathing. James looked also and saw a man walking toward them down the gentle slope. He was silhouetted from the light behind him, but James was certain he was wearing a zoot suit. A swanky fedora was perched on his head, and he held his wand up as if it were a tommy gun that had just finished vomiting forth its life-shattering load.

"None of you mugs move. . ." The man began dispensing bullets into the space above his head. James was amazed to see the wand cast a bright muzzle flash. "Or it's curtains for ya!" The wizard, after finishing this affected warning, began cackling. Morgan moved her head closer to James.

"I can make out the pen in the distance. I will engage Wedge while you circle around and free the unicorns. Make sure you give him a very wide berth. Got it?"

James nodded his assent. Morgan sniffled, wiped a spot of blood from her lip, and jumped up. Wedge yelped in delight and aimed his wand; the withering gunfire recommenced. Morgan swirled her wand around her body with what James concluded to be incredible proficiency, and the bullets again were deflected. Without further delay, James raced around the edge of the clearing and made his way to the pen at the top of the hill. When he looked back he saw Morgan and Wedge thrusting their wands at each other. At each attack there were audible blossoms of magical light. He hurried over to the pen and saw dancing above the high, steel fencing many cream-colored horns ending in sharp points. He pushed open the latch to the gate and stared inside. Before him, all milling about in exasperated boredom, were the unicorns. They were slightly smaller than horses, all of them white or a close approximation of it, and aside from their protruding horns and dreamy eyes, James was struck by the silvery sheen their mane and tail hairs produced. They didn't pay James the slightest bit of attention.

"Come on, guys, get out of here!" James shouted frantically at the animals, but they continued to ignore him. James kicked the side of the pen and felt the captured wand in his pocket; it seemed to give him a poke in his thigh. Suddenly inspired, James shoved his way to the back of the pen and took the wand out of his pocket. He held it high and with great concentration imagined the unicorns exiting their cage.

Nothing happened.

"Hey!" he barked and gazed sternly around; in unison the unicorns all looked up at him. James would have laughed if the circumstances were different. The animals took in the raised wand, and James saw fear flood into their lofty eyes. At once they all cantered clumsily towards the exit and spilled out of the pen. James, acting the part of improvisational cowboy, began yipping at the beasts and prodding them forward. Once free of the compound the unicorns began to gallop in earnest, all keeping formation as they charged down the hill to the patch of woods.

**9:05 PM**

Morgan felt as though she had never cast so many nonverbal counter-curses in her life, but she knew she had to press on or she would perish. Wedge, she saw, was sweating profusely. His fedora was long gone, and his once greased-back hair was sticking out in all directions. His burgundy suit was ripped in several places, but he persisted with his wicked attacks.

"You'll never take me alive, sweetheart!" Wedge jabbed at the air; Morgan brandished her wand horizontally and deflected the curse. Her limbs were as nimble as ever; her vigor potion was serving her well. However, her eyes began to stray in and out of focus for the briefest of moments. She couldn't believe it of herself, but she felt her confidence slip down a peg. Wedge smelled weakness and reared back for another attack.

He heard the rumble before Morgan did, but Morgan saw it first; behind her opponent came charging a wild pack of unicorns. Time slowed and Morgan heard her heart hammering inside her body. Wedge glanced backwards, and in that instant Morgan had her opening. She struck with her wand. She saw Wedge lift into the air, turn flat, and begin to spin violently around as if he were an airplane propeller. His wand flew out of his hand, and while it was still tumbling through the sky, Morgan took a righteous swipe at it; it turned a bright shade of green and then disintegrated into millions of molecules. Wedge hit the ground with a thud and stopped spinning. As he lifted his dazed head, the unicorns trampled over him; his body disappeared in a large cloud of dust and hooves. Morgan found herself suddenly in the path of the stampede. She lashed out with her wand once more, and just as the first horns were about to impale her, the unicorns bent their rampaging heads to either side and passed her. Once the animals were clear, she saw a foal near the top of the hill grazing on a clump of weeds, and her Muggle kinsman jogging down with a wizard's wand raised above his head. She felt a surge of joy.

James saw Wedge lying in a bloody heap and rushed over to him. Morgan did the same. They both looked down at the flattened wizard, and James snorted.

"I think he's actually still alive."

Morgan bent over and examined her vanquished adversary. His skin was hideously lacerated in at least a dozen places, and Morgan could tell many bones were fractured, but she concurred with her cousin; he indeed was still alive. Unhesitatingly, Morgan stabbed his forehead with her wand and closed her eyes. The unicorns out of sight bellowed in despair. James shot his head up and looked toward the woods.

"What's happening?"

"The animals have entered deep within the trees and have become immobilized by Wedge's protective enchantments. I am attempting to dispel the wards along with all the magical defenses surrounding the compound." After a minute passed, the whining stopped and James felt a tremendous vibration under his shoes. Morgan removed her wand from Wedge's face and exhaled.

"It is done. The unicorns are free." She looked at Wedge. "I will patch him up as best I can, but our job is not finished." She glanced up towards the meth lab. James licked his parched lips.

"Fogerty."

Morgan again stuck Wedge with the tip of her wand and his body became entombed in a skin-tight casing of stone. Only his mouth was unaffected by the curse. Morgan stood up and her fiery brows met in an angry point above the bridge of her nose. She turned on the spot and Disapparated into the summer night.

She reappeared in front of the meth lab's dilapidated door. She cut a swath with her wand and the door blew off its hinges. Inside the lab were several tables lined up in a row. On each were many plastic bags, bottles full of transparent liquid, and small measuring scales. Heavy metal music was blaring loudly from a stereo on the floor. In the corner smoking a cigarette was a young man with shoulder-length hair, a weak chin, and a small moustache. He watched Morgan enter the room. As she crossed the threshold, he threw his cigarette on the ground. Morgan raised her wand, but he simply grinned at her. Morgan noticed his teeth were filed down to razor-sharp points, and his lips were punctured in numerous places. He looked at her with bright red eyes.

"Go ahead, sister! Give it your best shot!" Fogerty arrogantly cocked his head to the side after he finished speaking.

Morgan smirked and quickly brought her wand down; the freedom-stealing shackles again emerged, but as they cut their way towards their intended target, Morgan noticed his black t-shirt give an almost imperceptible twinkle. Her eyes widened in terrifying comprehension, but it was too late; the spell smacked Fogerty in the chest and rebounded back towards Morgan. Before she could raise her wand again, the chains wrapped themselves tightly around her entire body. She gave a cry and collapsed to the floor. Her wand fell from her grasp and rolled underneath one of the tables. The blaring music shook her skull as she lay defenseless. She watched Fogerty strut over to her and look down into her face. He smiled again.

"Nice tattoo, lady. Let's see how it tastes."

Morgan squirmed as Fogerty leaned into her and bared his barbaric, dripping teeth. He was about to make contact when Morgan heard movement from the doorway. She saw Fogerty look up and roar in rage. James was visible for only an instant before he threw Fogerty into a table. Several glass bottles smashed onto the floor and Fogerty fell onto his side. James pounced on him before he could recover his bearings. They wrestled for less than a minute before James had both his hands cuffed behind the leg of a table. Tears were streaming down Fogerty's face as he writhed and thrashed about.

"Muggle scum! I'll eat you alive, I will!"

James placed in Morgan's bound hand his blond wand. She deftly tapped the sides of her impediment; the chains fell away and vanished. After James helped her to her feet, he gave her an ironic look.

"What were you saying earlier about underestimating Muggles?"

Morgan let this question pass and embraced her cousin in a long hug. James released her and looked down at Fogerty's quivering form. He was still sobbing, and blood was gushing from his mouth where he had inadvertently bitten down on his lips and tongue. James crouched over him and sighed.

"Joseph Fogerty, you're under arrest for the sale and distribution. ."

Morgan walked towards the exit as James read the young man his rights. She casually waved James' wand behind her, and the stereo clicked off. Outside, she heard the crickets take up their peaceful refrain.

**Saturday, August 20****th,**** 10:11 AM**

Jaime finished watering her potted marigolds on the front porch. She arched her neck and listened to the locusts in the oak trees holler to each other. The air outside was moist, unpleasant. She re-entered her bungalow and shut the front door tightly.

James called earlier and told her this would not be a good weekend for travelling to the city. Instead, he wanted to spend her birthday at her place. Jaime tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice when she answered him that it was okay, they could spend her day quietly the way he wanted to.

Jaime knew she loved her boyfriend, but once he came to terms with this fact, he would have to shed some of the mystery from his life. She wanted to learn more intricately his frustrations, his triumphs. She wanted to get to know his family better. What was the real story behind his garnet-studded ring? She thought about the few times she met his mother; she couldn't believe how crisp and cold the woman seemed. Why was she like that? How did James feel about her? Would Jaime ever delve into the hidden depths of his psyche? Thursday night her boyfriend's mysterious air smelled like a musky cologne, but this morning it was stale and distasteful.

She breathed out loudly and flopped onto the sofa. Her cell phone on the coffee table started buzzing. The text screen on the lid indicated James was calling.

"Hey, babe." He greeted her warmly.

"What's up?"

"I wanted to bring a friend over to your place for the day. I figured we all could hang out."

Jaime felt the frustration pool inside her. "James, today's my birthday! I wanted to spend it with you, you alone!"

"Trust me on this one." James did not appear to hear the salt in Jaime's voice.

"Whatever. When are you stopping by?"

At that instant there was a knock on the front door, and Jaime went to see who it was. When she opened the door she saw James standing on her front porch with his cell phone pressed to his ear. By his side was a small, white, baby unicorn. Its horn was barely six inches long, and its eyes were huge and heavenly. Jaime stepped back and gasped. Her cell phone smacked against the wood of the floor. James was glamorously smiling.

"Happy birthday, Jaim. Are you surprised?"


End file.
